The Adventures of the King
by Sterling-Aster
Summary: A continuation of 'The Meeting' What happened AFTER Rayleigh joined Roger's crew?
1. Chapter 1 The Test of the Sea

The Adventures of the King:

One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda:

Chapter 1

Test of the Sea

There were high seas that day. Rayleigh looked out at the coming waves, half thrilled, half cringing. His boat was nothing huge, and the sea, like he'd known since childhood, was having a ball with testing the two newest sailors on her depths. The sails balked as the wind filled them, propelling the ship forward.

It had been three weeks since he'd set out with Roger on his little quest. The days had been filled with much food-for-thought as the two slowly learned about each other. Rayleigh found himself continuously surprised at Roger's everyday behavior. One moment the Mugiwara man would be quiet and thoughtful, just moving about the ship staring at the sea with some sort of reserved intensity. And the next moment, Roger would run laps around the deck while spouting something ridiculous. The man was certainly something… Though to be fair, Rayleigh had no way of knowing what impression his own behavior made on Roger and he wasn't about to ask; for all he knew, Roger might think him a complete nut case.

Despite the odd behavior of his new captain, Rayleigh was pleased to discover that Roger was all around easy to deal with. The man didn't know everything about ships and sailing, but he was willing to listen and learn what his new first mate knew. And everything Rayleigh didn't know, Roger made up for; in short, their partnership worked. They talked about random, unimportant things. Nothing ground-breaking or deep, but the conversations weren't forced or awkward, so it progressed smoothly enough.

Roger seemed content to let things develop at its own pace, not rushing. The captain had not asked Rayleigh any exactly personal questions or asked to be given any of his history other than what Rayleigh himself volunteered to share. The blonde filed that fact under what he deemed as Roger's 'good traits' that he'd been cultivating in his mind. Rayleigh wasn't a paranoid person, but he had to admit he was curious about Roger and the type of man he was.

Why did he want to be a pirate? Why a choice that was so ill reputed? What was his goal outside of being a pirate, if any— well, besides 'entering the world's frontal view' or 'turning the world upside down'. And what were _those_ goals about anyway?

He had questions. But he refrained from asking out of respect for Roger's respect for his own privacy; he deserved the same in return. After all, if things continued on as smoothly as they'd been so far, he'd likely have the answers to these questions sooner or later.

A loud yawn disrupted Rayleigh's thinking. The blonde turned as he heard the door of the cabin close and watched Roger come to stand beside him on the deck. The man's hair was a wreck, but it was quickly hidden when the Mugiwara was put on his head again.

Roger hummed as he noticed the waves. "I thought we were moving a lot. Guess this explains it." He remarked in a sleepy tone.

Rayleigh smirked, "It's actually calmed down a bit compared to earlier." Roger seemed surprised at this, his eyes widened. Now clearly more awake.

"Really?" he asked, looking at the waves, almost pouting. "Shucks, I missed it!" He looked at Rayleigh, "How big were they?"

"The cabin door was closed for a reason." The blonde informed the man, nodding at the deck of the ship-they had a habit of keeping the door open on good days, to let cool air in, "They were coming about two feet over the deck, thank goodness it's windy today, or I'd still be drenched."

"Wake me up next time!" Roger said, both whining and excited. "I would have liked to have seen them!"

Rayleigh chuckled, glad that the wind mainly masked the sound, "Fine, I'll wake you next time, though I may not have to today."

"Yeah," Roger agreed, inclining his head at the dark clouds in the distance, "We might be seeing bigger ones soon."

"Ugh," Rayleigh muttered, unenthused, "I hope not. I'm a good swimmer, but I don't want to swim over fifty miles to the next island."

Roger eyed his first mate, the man was full of such interesting facets of contradiction, on one side he was confident and assured and on the other he was cautious and, while admittedly pessimistic, had a proper view of the situation. "You're thinking too much," He announced, "We can handle it, who knows, it could be fun!"

"You're definition of 'fun' I think might need some work, Captain." Rayleigh said with apt sarcasm. Those clouds didn't look like they'd be fun.

Roger chuckled for a moment, but Rayleigh noted that it lacked its common good humor, and he eyed him warily, and Roger spoke, "At least don't worry about it until it's actually here, besides, this time of year along with the natural testy weather patterns around Bermuda island, this is normal; we better get used to it. Later on the seas will get tougher and we'll have to be ready to face them." The blonde suppressed a sigh, yet again caught off guard by Roger's behavior, he could be ridiculous, but he had these moments where he showed wisdom that you wouldn't guess he had by his appearance.

"Point taken, Captain," Rayleigh said diplomatically, nodding.

At this, Roger seemed to brighten, and he grinned suddenly. "Good, now that that's decided, let's eat, I'm starving!"

"If you wouldn't sleep in so much you wouldn't miss meals, you know." Rayleigh reminded him, though he'd never told him that before. And with Roger's reaction, the blonde wondered if anyone had ever told Roger that before.

"Say what!?" the captain shouted, the portrait of shock.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to go hungry just because you are."

"You've eaten already?" Roger asked, holding his gut as if wounded.

"Just breakfast," Rayleigh assured him with a placating gesture of peace, and continued, "I was going to wake you for lunch if you weren't up by then. Not eating right out here will kill you."

"I'm not going to die," Roger said flatly, but he had that strange intensity in his eyes again, "I'm never missing breakfast again!"

The blonde first mate blinked, this man could certainly get worked up over food, but he had to clarify, "Relax, Roger, if you'd continued sleeping in and missing breakfast I was going to bring it up. I wouldn't say nothing and let you die; I'd be a pretty bad first mate if I allowed that."

He wasn't going to wait for Roger's reaction, so he went inside the cabin to prepare something for them to eat.

Roger had to replay what his first mate had said about three times before his meaning became real to him. '_Trust me, will you, I have your back_.' That's how it translated to Roger, and he was quite sure that he was right in believing it. His grin was wide and ecstatic throughout lunch; ecstatic with his luck, and even happier with his choice in a first mate.

…~…

Later on that day Rayleigh was looking at a map of the stretch of water they were about to enter. The stretch of water had a strange name on the map, _The Under-Scupper_ _Stretch_. Rayleigh cocked an eyebrow, wondering what the name was supposed to mean.

"Roger," he called to the Mugiwara captain. Roger glanced over his shoulder at Rayleigh and noted his furrowed brow as he came up to him. Rayleigh proffered the map he'd been looking at and asked, "Do you know what the _Under-Scupper Stretch_ is?"

Roger thought for a minute, searching his memory. The name sounded vaguely familiar, wasn't that…? "A twenty mile span of water… before the ten, or some-odd, mile mark to Bermuda Island?"

Rayleigh nodded, inclining his head at the map that Roger had yet to look at, "Yes, it is, but the name is written in the garish gothic font, which means it's dangerous; any idea why? We should be prepared."

Roger steadied his hat as a gust of wind passed them, "I've never been to Bermuda Island before, so I don't really know much."

"So we're going in blind…" Rayleigh mused, less than thrilled. He hummed as he thought, trying to reason out what the danger could be, "A scupper is a drain on a ship…" he mumbled, but Roger heard him, seeming to catch on to what he was trying to do.

"Yeah, and it's called _Under-Scupper_. That's weird… a drain that's under a ship?"

"It's the ocean though. No drain for it. It can't be a whirlpool either; the map would've showed it." Rayleigh said, stroking his chin.

There was a span of silence as they pondered the words. Having enough, Roger sighed, "I guess we'll see when we get there. _Under-Scupper_ makes no sense."

"You're right, but I don't like it." Rayleigh agreed, and they prepped the ship to go.

The dark clouds in the distance were releasing occasional peals of dim thunder, and with the wind currents both Roger and Rayleigh knew that it was headed their way. The build of the cumulous clouds was getting larger by the hour, reaching, Rayleigh figured, about ten miles high and it filled the eastern horizon to packed; it was a big storm.

"We should get through the Under-Scupper Stretch quickly," Roger advised even though he knew his first mate fully agreed with him. Roger prided himself on his bravery, but he was far from stupid, that storm would be hard to get through with their current vessel, and plus he had Rayleigh's life to consider…

Rayleigh nodded, eyeing the clouds, but he quickly turned back to his task, tightening the jib sheet.

"The winds are bringing the storm from the east, that's rare, so it'll be a bad one if we get caught in it." Rayleigh announced, Roger nodded, knowing the fact as well as any, and his first mate continued, "If we sail windward we'll miss Bermuda Island completely and have to deal with the storm out on the open water. I'm figuring that the storm will hit us in about three hours, so we don't have much time to work with when getting through the _Under-Scupper Stretch_, and that's not counting what dangers await us when going through there."

Roger nodded, coming to stand next to Rayleigh to look at the map he held. Narrowing his eyes, he looked carefully, "Bermuda Island has three ports, two on the far west side of the island and one in the northeast. The northeastern port is the closest, but we'll have to sail almost directly leeward."

"True," Rayleigh said, "But that will add about two hours onto our time, we'll be in the thick of the storm by the time we reach the Under-Scupper, and with that we'll still have about thirty miles to sail until we reach the port, and we still don't know if that port will be open during the storm."

Roger cringed, seeing the point, "So you want to head to one of the western ports?" His first mate turned to look at him fully,

"I'll go where ever you say to go, but, yes, it would probably be better if we aimed for the western ports."

Roger was about to answer, when both men lurched sharply as the ship gave a nasty shake and rocked testily.

"What was that?" Both Roger and Rayleigh asked at once. No time to even try to answer each other's question, the boat lurched again, but this time it was harder, and the two were recovering their balance with a vengeance. And then they were hit again.

"What is going on?" Roger snapped, he ran to the side of the ship and looked over. "It felt like we hit something!"

Another rattle and then the ship lurched hard to the side, knocking Rayleigh off his feet. He scrambled up again, but then an idea came to mind. "Roger, get to the tiller, I'll see what is going on from above."

Roger looked hesitant, but did as he was told anyway when Rayleigh climbed atop the cabin roof and inched his way up and onto the miniature crow's nest at the top of the mast.

Up so high, the blonde saw the problem immediately despite the choppy waves. Alarmed, he called down to Roger, "It's a reef, or rocks, or some—" he didn't finish as the ship collided with something below the waves.

"Rocks…!" Roger called, shocked. "Shouldn't the map have warned us about stuff like that?!"

"It did…" Rayleigh said as the ship brushed another rock, jostling them sharply to the left. "The map should've said _'Scupper-__**Puncher**__ Stretch'_ instead of _'Under-Scupper Stretch'_. We were warned, I guess…" More rocks were up ahead. From high up it looked like there was a deep shadow under the water while the rest of the water, not hiding rocks, was a distinctly lighter shade.

Rayleigh snapped out of his monotone quickly when he saw they were coming up on the shadowed parts, but there was a clearing to the right… without thinking, Rayleigh called out.

"Roger, turn to port, quick!"

Roger, meanwhile, had next to no idea which way 'port' meant, so he guessed at random, but he watched Rayleigh closely.

Up on the mini crows-nest, Rayleigh jerked as the boat moved under him, the sensation was stronger when there was less under your feet to support you, but they turned toward the rocks shadow instead of away from it!

"Ah!" he almost shrieked in alarm and he looked at Roger on the deck.

Roger was glad he'd been watching his first mate; he'd obviously chosen the wrong direction, so he pulled the tiller, hard, in the opposite direction. The captain cringed as he saw Rayleigh frantically grab for the length of mast to balance himself.

_You cannot be serious_! The blonde raged in his head. But he pushed it aside for the moment when he saw another shadow just under the water directly in front of them and there was no clearing this time.

"Hold on, Roger, there's no avoiding this one!" he called, and the ship rocked heavily and the two pirates cringed as they felt the rocks scrape against the hull of their little ship. The rattling jarred their teeth and both silently prayed that severe damage would be avoided.

Rayleigh kept his eyes open for a way out. "About ten more feet of this, Roger, then we'll have to go starboard!" He gestured to his captain, but he motioned to their left, "You'll have to turn the tiller left to go right!"

"That makes no sense, but alright!" Roger replied, confused. Their ship continued to groan as it endured the rough trek over the rocks. Roger's hands holding the tiller were beginning to go numb from all the shaking, but he kept his hold, listening for Rayleigh's instruction.

"A little further now, get ready!" the blonde announced. Roger tightened his grip, preparing to turn the tiller to the left even if made no sense.

"Turn now!"

Roger wrenched the tiller to the left, and the ship swung to the right. Up above, Rayleigh noted the sharpness of the turn. He vaguely wondered of Roger was angry, but he could deal with that later. More calmly, for good measure, Rayleigh called, "ease to the right now,"

Roger heard him and did as instructed. The ship corrected and sailed in a straight line now.

"How far do we have to—?" Roger asked, but cut off suddenly as something cold settled in his gut and he froze.

"About fifteen miles," the blonde answered and added, "Turn the tiller left."

Roger didn't answer, but he slowly directed the tiller right to go left. His movements felt stiff, like his joints were stuffed with gravel. Dread filled him. He'd had this feeling before…

"Rayleigh…" he said in a serious voice that could carry for miles.

Rayleigh immediately turned to look at Roger, he should keep his eyes on the water and the coming sections of rocks to avoid, but something in Roger's tone chilled him and something inside was screaming at him to take heed.

Eyeing the waters ahead very quickly, Rayleigh saw no shadows for now, "What is it?" he asked. And he noted with some surprise that even under the shade of his hat, Roger's face had turned ashen.

"What's wrong, Roger?" the first mate reiterated, now concerned.

"Rayleigh, we should head for the northeastern port." Roger said softly, but that serious tone hadn't faltered a bit. Rayleigh suppressed a shiver, and he looked at the waters again to distract himself.

"We agreed to go to one of—"

"Rayleigh," Roger stated, now looking up at the blonde. Rayleigh blinked, that intensity was back, but it was yet different than the other times he'd seen it. Not tempered with humor, frustration, or rebuke… the first mate wasn't sure but it looked like—

"Let's switch places, Rayleigh, please." Roger said in the same tone. He stood from his spot near the tiller. The boat hit another set of rocks and cantered severely to the right. Eerily unaffected by the ship's movement, Roger stared off in the same direction of the rock set that bulled them as if waiting for something.

Rayleigh, confused, but with his insides still screaming at him, warily acquiesced and jumped down from his perch. The sound of his landing jarred Roger out of his trance and the ship scraped against more rocks and the deck vibrated testily.

The blonde first mate stood to full height again and he looked at his captain. That intensity was still there, but up close it was different. The ship bumped something and Rayleigh leaned with the ship to keep his balance. "Roger," Rayleigh said, his own voice sounded strange to him, he wasn't sure why.

The addressed looked at his companion. "Something's wrong," he said without preamble and continued before Rayleigh could get a word in, "we need to get out of here, fast."

Rayleigh nodded. His gut told him not to question his captain right now; that it would be a mistake to push him. So without a word he walked over and sat at the tiller. Meanwhile Roger had sprinted to the mast, as if their ship wasn't violently rocking; he climbed up it with ease and claimed the blonde's former perch.

Roger then looked back down to Rayleigh, that intensity, whatever form it was taking this time, was getting stronger. "I'm going to say left and right like a normal person." He stated and he looked at the waters over the starboard side of the ship. "Can you move the ship if I say it like that?" he asked, locking gazes with the blonde.

The atmosphere about the Mugiwara Captain was stifling now, Rayleigh wondered if he could've spoken even if he'd wanted to. Jerkily, he nodded the affirmative.

"Alright, then move the ship as I tell you."

Silence fell, save for the ship ramming the rocks beneath the waves. Roger cringed as that freezing feeling in his gut spread, breathing was getting difficult, but he managed, knowing full well that panic wouldn't help him here, and it would endanger his first mate if he cracked. He scanned the waters ahead with resolve, eyes sharp for his unknown dread.

He hated this 'feeling'. Whatever it was, it made him vulnerable, weak… and if he was weak he couldn't protect anything, even if it was only Rayleigh right now. He inhaled a deep breath, and the ship careened into a rough batch of rocks. The opposing elements battered against each other, fighting for dominance. Roger knew that rock would eventually win out over the wood of their hull if this continued for too much longer, but it would have to last. It would just have to.

There was no other way.

"Rayleigh," he called to his first mate. The blonde on the deck below him looked up. Roger felt his eyes on his back without turning; he knew he had the man's undivided attention. "To the right," he commanded.

Their ship steered right as Rayleigh moved the tiller to the left. The atmosphere that Roger was creating was so heavy in the air that Rayleigh had to focus in order to breathe. He wanted to ask what the problem really was, but his gut cut him off when he thought to try and ask; warning him severely to be silent.

It wouldn't have been heard anyway. For in the instant that Rayleigh decided to remain quiet a deafening peal of thunder rent the air, filling it with explosive echoes. Both the blonde and the Mugiwara captain flinched sharply at the sudden noise and looked up.

Neither had registered the time swiftly passing them by, and with their attention on hidden rocks, unknown dreads, a shaking ship, and the sudden mood swings of certain captains, they hadn't noticed the gradually darkening skies as the storm stalked them.

_**Author's note**__: I don't know much about ships and such, I'm doing my best, but, -shrugs- just letting the populace know. If something is glaringly wrong, let me know. If I can't fix it, I'll at least know for future stories. Let me know what Y'all think!_


	2. Chapter 2 The Storm

The Adventures of the King:

**One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda**:

Chapter 2

The Storm

Rayleigh inwardly groaned as the storm announced itself. He calculated that they still had about five more miles of this rocky stretch (properly renamed _Scupper-__**Puncher**_ _Stretch_, in his mind) to wade through until they reached smoother waters. But smoother waters were now a pipe dream with the storms appearance.

The winds picked up, not missing a beat. Rayleigh and Roger had talked about storms a few days before entering Bermuda Island's climate zone. The skies had been clear and untroubled, but neither pirate assumed it would last.

Roger knew the dangers as well as Rayleigh did, but there was only so much they would be able to do if they encountered a storm. Despite his misgivings, Rayleigh had been marginally reassured by his captain's words to him back then:

"_Don't sweat it, Rayleigh_," Roger had said, patting him on the back. "_There're two of us, so things should go more smoothly during a storm_."

Famous last words… those.

The dark clouds had turned into a massive thunderhead. It was approximately 4:00pm in the afternoon when the storm hit, and in the middle of the day, it looked like midnight.

Being in the crow's nest was no longer necessary, dark as it was, so Roger had climbed down and was managing the sails. You had to climb up atop the cabin in order to reach the sails so Roger still had a decent vantage point and could warn Rayleigh of the rocks he saw when the lightning flashed.

Roger and Rayleigh had their work cut out for them. It was a four-way battle with nature. The forces combating one another were the wind, the waves, the rocks, and the pirates. The wind was a violent enemy and the waves, as the reinforcements of said enemy, battered their ship like a clothes pin on jumpy wire. The wind and waves, however, were kind in comparison to the hidden cunning of the rocks still just below the water.

The freezing feeling in Roger's gut strengthened and coiled into a tight ball inside him, making him feel sick for a moment. It passed, but as he directed their route, the storm plumed to life.

The winds would turn up the waves; their ship would climb up the waves, and then their enduring ship would sail down (tally-ho!) and crash dangerously on the unforgiving stones awaiting them. Rayleigh governed the tiller as Roger still directed their course. Amazingly, even amidst the chaos of the storm Roger still exuded that intense atmosphere; even more amazing was that Rayleigh still felt it!

What in the world was Roger that his attitude could be felt through the wrath of nature?

"Rayleigh…!" Roger called, his intense tone piercing the noise. "Turn left again!" The Captain's straw hat was plastered to his head; the salt water and pounding rain helping it stay in place, which was helpful since the winds were Roger's main enemy at the moment.

Rayleigh would have complied, but he slipped from his seat when a surging wave crashed over the deck. And he was washed across the deck and slammed into the bulwark. The wave had been so thick that it took a moment for the water to recede. The scuppers of the ship weren't designed to take on this much water at once.

The drenched blonde staggered to his feet and dashed for the tiller again and quickly wrenched the wooden lever to the right. Roger pulled a rope with all his strength and the sail boom groaned, inching decidedly slow to the will of the pirate captain. That freezing in Roger's gut intensified when the storm hit, it was making him sick again, but in a way that was nothing like sea sickness.

There wasn't time to think about it though. A wave picked up their little ship and they'd just crested the wave and now came the plunge. Coming down, both Roger and Rayleigh heard an ominous crunching noise not too close to breaking wood.

Roger knew that if this kept up that they'd sink. Rayleigh, he knew, was aware of it as well, so there was no point mentioning it. Bracing the boom of the sail, Roger glanced up at the dark sky. It was an ugly black, angry color. It looked menacing. The sails balked, Roger thought he heard something tear, but he decided to ignore it.

The captain felt that freezing sensation swell and plume to life inside him. While the wind and waves used their ship as a racket ball, the Mugiwara captain beheld an epiphany.

The freezing sensation moved. When he faced certain directions, it grew stronger or weaker; this indicated that the danger he sensed was moving somehow.

Things that moved were often sentient. Whatever the cold feeling was, it was alive.

For a split second, the world stilled for Roger. A foreign weight settled over his being just then. The mental load surprised him, his eyes widened.

The thought was rudely disrupted by a wave that careened into the ship so hard that it felt like head-butting a brick wall. Roger was rent from his spot and sent spinning across the deck. Coming to a dead stop when the bulwark blocked his path off the ship, or it would have, were that the only wave, but no, said wave had friends.

Another wave splashed over the ship and pressed Roger flush against the bulwark like a stamp. But two more waves wickedly joined in. As Roger scampered to his feet to regain his bearings, bracing his hat with his hand, a wave ambushed him from behind, knocking him to his knees, and then the second wave hit him square in the face and it was able to get under him.

Roger knew he was in trouble when he couldn't feel the deck of the ship under him anymore, but the threat was magnified when he felt his heel smack against the top ledge of the bulwark. He was overboard. With sudden, horrifying clarity, that foreign weight tripled and Roger bleakly concluded: He'd die like he'd grown up, alone and with nothing.

Well, if that was how it was to be, then at least he'd tried; a faint smirk touched his lips.

Fate had other plans though.

Roger felt a hand clasp around his ankle and give it a vicious yank. Next was his shirt and he was about strangled as he was hauled foot and collar back on the ship. The small vessel knocked upward to meet him and Roger collided hard with the deck of the ship. A hand under his arm pulled him to his feet again as the ship rode down the wave.

"Are you alright?" A voice shouted over the chaos.

Roger wiped his face of the sea water that had blinded him and looked at Rayleigh. Drenched, just as he was, Rayleigh's glasses were speckled with water droplets; it was a marvel that he could see at all. Absently Roger nodded and Rayleigh steadied him as their ship took a nasty hit again.

"I think the rudder is broken." Rayleigh stated bluntly. "That's why it took me so long to get to you –sorry about that by the way-. I had to tie the tiller down in its brace position." A waved crashed over the deck and almost knocked them over.

Roger looked up and took in the shape of the skies. "So the wind is all we have now?" he said grimly. Rayleigh nodded.

"I'll help you with the sails. Do you still know where to go?"

Roger blinked as they made their way toward the sails again, slipping and sliding all the way. Rayleigh was still following him? The thought boggled him. His first mate's 'words' from earlier came to mind again. _Trust me, will you, I've got your back_. After a moment and when the thought really sunk in, a hint of a smile split Roger's face. Apparently, even though he'd asked Rayleigh to join _him_, he himself hadn't really accepted the presence of the man.

Roger half registered the blonde letting go of him and climbing up onto the cabin to reach the sails. The winds were violent, but the captain was still coming to grips with his realization.

Roger had had no constant form of support in his life. Relying on someone was not an automatic thing for him. The world had practically raised him to be completely independent. He needed no one; he could take care of himself just fine.

However, a part of the young Roger had longed for that one thing that he could never name. In those rare times that he'd seen a happy family from afar, something inside him ached and yearned to have something like that. He'd vowed then and there to take care of anyone he found precious to him, to be there for them, to protect them from that feeling of— well, whatever it was, that he'd known so well in childhood… but protecting and trusting were two different things.

He'd never thought that as he protected someone precious to him that the one he was protecting could do the same for him.

There had been no one to help him up when he'd fallen before Rayleigh joined him.

In short, he wasn't alone anymore.

He wouldn't die the same way he'd grown up. Rayleigh's presence changed the chemistry of the whole situation…

"Roger, look out!"

Rayleigh almost fell over as a powerful wave crashed over the ship again and it swallowed Roger! No time to think, Rayleigh prepared to jump in the minute he spotted his captain. He didn't have to though. The waters receded and there stood Roger. Holding on to the jib sheet with one hand, grinning like a crazed fool and his straw hat was held in place by his other hand. He looked up, his smile clearly seen when the lightning flashed.

"Rayleigh!" he called as he made his way over. The blonde let down a hand and helped Roger up to where the sails were. His heart was pounding, he thought Roger was gone! Said captain's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come on, Rayleigh." He said smiling. "Let's get to the port. I said this boat would weather storms if you handled it right and I meant it!"

From there it was a mad house (ship, rather) getting the sails to work with them as the winds constantly battered their attempts to direct the vessel. Roger still felt that cold clenching in his gut, but his latter realization all but dashed his concerns in that area.

But there was still this storm to get through. Fortunately, they had gotten through the _Under-Scupper Stretch _a little earlier; a bit after Roger almost fell overboard. So their ship was no longer taking a beating and threatening to sink _that_ way. Roger and Rayleigh fought with the winds and the cold rain.

Roger pointed suddenly. "It's there!" Rayleigh braced the rope he held and looked to where his captain was pointing. Narrowing his eyes, he strained to see what Roger was pointing at, but to little avail. Then, as if nature was trying to help him see as his captain did, the lightning flashed and illuminated the port about a mile away.

Rayleigh could have shouted, he was so relieved, but his reasoning crushed those hopes. "I don't see any harbor lights on." He informed Roger. "They might not let us dock."

Roger's smile didn't falter one bit. "There'll be a spot open, Rayleigh." Roger then yanked on the rope he held and the boom of the sail almost smacked into Rayleigh.

The lightning flashed all the more fierce, as if the storm itself sensed the blooming hope of the two pirates. From that point onward, the sea threw everything she had at them. And Roger and Rayleigh tugged and pulled and just plain pushed to get their sails pointing in the right direction.

As the waves grew more violent, they drew nearer and nearer to the port. Rayleigh could just barely make out dim lights shining through the wild storm. They might actually make it!

Roger nodded as he saw the lights of the port through the gloom. They were almost there. Their first storm together and he and Rayleigh were just about through it and to safety!

But then he felt it… again.

This time it was so close Roger felt as though he'd been sucker punched.

A wave bulled their ship to the right, hard. Rayleigh cringed as he saw more waves coming their way. This might get rough; naturally, things were always harder in the last stretch of the race. But a familiar pressure stunted Rayleigh's thoughts.

Almost choking on his tongue, Rayleigh looked at Roger and saw the man's face was frozen in a horrified expression. The rain and the dark of the storm made it hard to tell, but Rayleigh could've sworn that Roger would be glowing, he was so pale!

"What's—" Rayleigh began, but then Roger looked at him directly, and that pressure intensified tenfold.

"Rayleigh…!" Roger snapped, and the blonde reacted the second he felt it. Even amidst the chaos of the storm, no one would miss a rigging rope snapping. Rayleigh immediately dropped to his stomach and he saw the boom swing wildly over his head. Roger himself just barely cantered out of the way of the dangerous boom and he crawled back to Rayleigh's side.

"If we make a hard left, we should just make it into a port." Roger said while spitting water out of his mouth. Rayleigh nodded.

"Well, it's not like we have any other choice." Rayleigh stuttered, the pressure from Roger making it hard to breathe.

"We have to rig the boom again if we want this to work." Roger stated, though for once he didn't seem thrilled with the prospect at all. Rayleigh sighed, even if he found it difficult. Roger was right, they needed to re-rig a rope to the left side of the boom if they were to direct the sail properly.

Carefully, the two looked up again, keeping a watchful eye on the boom. It was swinging with abandon, at the mercy of the wind. Roger was about to say something, but a particularly hard bucket of rain decided it was a grand time to fall on them.

The small but bright lantern that Rayleigh had hanging from a little above the cabin was very nigh doused. And it jerked sharply in the mess if the ship's movements. Rayleigh wouldn't be surprised that, if they and their ship survived this ordeal, that the oil in the lantern would be up into the wick area; hopefully it would be salvageable if that happened.

Roger felt sick the sensation was so strong now. It almost seemed to pulse inside him and it was so intense that it was bordering on painful. A voice broke through his thoughts.

"We need to brace the boom first, Roger." Shakily due to the ache inside him, Roger eyed his first mate and nodded. They quickly put a plan together, nothing fancy, but doable.

"Will that work?" Rayleigh asked, he braced himself as a wave tried to wash him away. But Roger caught his arm. The blonde was a bit shocked to find that Roger's arm was shaking. Though not from the cold… the man still looked pale… almost—

"It will work, Rayleigh." Roger replied. Despite his body protesting, he smiled. "We'll make it, I promise."

It was a long and treacherous few moments as Rayleigh awaited Rogers signal for when to pull. The weather was giving them no quarter; trying with a vengeance to hinder them. The two pirates had scooted and inched around on their bellies until they had switched places. Now Rayleigh was on the right of the cabin roof and Roger was on the left. The plan was for Rayleigh, as he was taller and thus heavier than Roger, to pull the right rigging rope and slow the swinging boom so Roger could scale it to retie the rigging rope on the left side. '_When I give the word_,' the captain had said, '_pull with everything you're worth. I think you were right, this is going to be tight_.'

The Mugiwara captain was referring to when Rayleigh had mentioned, more mumbled, earlier while they'd been scooting that getting into a port would be tricky and a tight fit. And that was not accounting for the storm. They both had seen the port when the lightning flashed. It was a small thing.

This was going to be rough. "Rayleigh…!" Roger hollered from his position, ready to pounce. "You ready?" he called. The blonde nodded gravely, clutching the rigging rope in his hands all the harder. If this didn't work they were goners, but something inside him remained calm, and it wasn't his typical nonchalant attitude.

He found encouragement from Roger's word. '_We'll make it, I promise._'

"I'm ready, Captain."

Hearing Rayleigh's words, Roger nodded, but that cold rock in his gut constantly throbbed now, reminding him of its presence. He watched the swinging boom and waited for his chance. The boom was still dancing about recklessly and he was starting to see a pattern.

"Now, pull!" Roger shouted.

Rayleigh braced his feet against the raised corner of the cabin's roof and pulled with all the strength he could muster. He'd wrapped some of the rope around his arm for leverage and better grip.

The boom stalled in its crazy trek, and then it was a contest of strength between Rayleigh, the wind, and the rain and waves.

As soon as Roger had given the signal and seen the boom waver, he'd pounced and shimmied right up the mast and was now sitting Indian style in the crow's nest with his legs wrapped around the last length of the mast to steady him as he worked.

With his keen eyes, Roger had seen the rigging rope snap earlier and had warned Rayleigh, but fortunately for him, he'd also seen that the rig rope had snapped from the top of the sail; not from the center. That meant it was an easy fix.

As the storm blew their ship about, Roger worked tirelessly to retie the rope.

The water from all sides made it a trying thing to pull off a knot of any worth, but Roger's persistence paid off. The knot was tied-and doubled for good measure. That done, He peered over the side of the crow's nest to Rayleigh; it was dark down there, he could barely see, but thankfully the lightening flashed and Roger saw his first mate, still steadying the boom with the right rigging rope.

The winds buffeted the little ship again and again, but the stubborn little thing, like the sailors aboard her deck, persevered onward.

Roger stood, steadying himself with the small stretch of mast from the crow's nests' center. He climbed back down and quickly lowered himself to his first mate's level. Left rigging rope in hand, he wound the slack about his arm, taking the hint from Rayleigh that it helped keep grip.

"You ready?" Roger asked in a strained voice. The icy feeling in his gut was there, festering. The blonde looked at him. His light hair pasted to his head; he nodded the affirmative.

Roger nodded in return. "Alright then," He said. He looked over his shoulder, and noted the closer port; the lights of said port now finally visible without squinting. The waves crashed and heaved at the small boat while Roger calculated the angle they were at.

He laid back again and looked at Rayleigh. "It's about fifty meters away now." He said, estimating that it might be less, but he'd found that rounding up was usually a good idea. Roger pulled the left rig rope sharply as the wind tried to wrench it from him, and Rayleigh kept his line taught, though his arm was tingling from the lack of circulation. Roger continued, loudly over the sudden thunder, "We should keep going this direction, but about halfway in, we need to ark out and then ark back in. The wind should push us right into port."

"If said wind cooperates." Rayleigh muttered, but he nodded anyway. He took off his glasses with his free hand and hooked them on his shirt collar. He wasn't sure they'd stay, but there were more important things to worry about now. "Just tell me when." He agreed.

Deafening thunder cracked directly over them, it shook Roger's bones. He looked back again, and noted that the wind had blown them up to the halfway point faster than he'd expected. No time to gasp he shouted—

"Go!"

Rayleigh, thankfully, knew exactly what to do. He eased up his hold on his side, and the wind filled the battered sail and directed them arcing outward again, Rayleigh had felt the movement; the lean of the ship. He eyed Roger and the captain nodded, and they immediately switched roles. Rayleigh jerked the rig rope with all his might, and Roger eased his hold.

The wind, again, filled the sail, the water from the wind's push washed over the deck, but a wave from directly behind the ship pushed them forward through the mess of oncoming waves— just as Roger had predicted. The plan was working.

That feeling, cold, hard and crushing ensnared Roger's heart in an instant, he coughed and clutched the rope tighter. A good thing he did too, the extra tension righted the ship's course, but now they were coming in too fast.

"Roger—!" Rayleigh about squeaked.

Growling against the iron gripping his heart, Roger quickly unwound the rope from his arm and passed it to his first mate and took off. The waves challenged his balance, and the cold inside him threatened his wakefulness, but he stumbled to the anchor and node. He undid the locking brace and looked back.

They were in line with the port; they'd sail straight in, but far too quickly.

Roger gauged the distance, and, deciding it was too dangerous to wait, he cast the anchor. He watched the node spin wildly as the anchor sunk deeper, seeking a hold, and cringed. He'd noticed that the rope that Rayleigh had purchased for the ship was too small, but it had worked so far, now, if Lady Luck didn't betray them on a whim, it would work again. The ship was just entering the port, but still too fast. If they didn't stop they'd—

_**Lurch**_—

Roger was airborne and landed back on the waterlogged deck in a heap, for once grateful that the water was there; the landing would've been worse if there hadn't been.

The anchor had caught. The lurch had slowed the ship enough that when it inevitably hit the port wall, it was minor. They had made port.

As the weary duo worked to tie their ship in, they, with equal relief and stunned silent awe realized it.

They had beat the storm.

_**Author's note**__: Again, I don't know much about ships or sailing, I'm doing my best. Hope it's not too bad. Tell me what you think! YAY! for getting through their first storm! Go Team! _


	3. Chapter 3 Explanation

The Adventures of the King:

**One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda**:

Chapter 3

Explanations

Rayleigh stared at the ship with silent befuddlement and shock.

How in the living world had they survived the chaos of that storm with their hull so damaged? As if to remind him of said storm, the blonde heard a rumble of distant thunder. He glanced up at the sky. Grim clouds were still dominant up there, and it looked like it could rain again any moment.

Even though the storm had hit them in the middle of the day yesterday, it was well into the evening when Roger and Rayleigh had finally pulled into the port. Once the ship was tied in, the two sailors, exhausted, had retreated to the cabin and had simply passed out.

It was early when they woke again, and their ship was still bobbing testily in the port. The last vestiges of the storm were still simmering outside. In a way, it reminded Rayleigh of a frustrated predator, one that had been eluded by its prey.

Roger had left earlier to go sight a place to buy food. They had plenty, but the blonde figured that Roger wanted to be alone for a bit. Not that the first mate minded, he needed some time to think too. However, when no answers came to him about that strange power from Roger, his frustration led him to seek something else to do. Which is why he was now assessing their damaged ship.

He stood on the pier before their ship and once again shook his head in wonder that they'd not sunk yesterday. The hull was dented in such a way that, in hindsight, it was nothing short of miraculous that they'd not sunk.

There was a dent the size of Rayleigh's torso on the starboard side of the bow. Earlier, he'd noted the double sized dent in the port stern. For what seemed the umpteenth time that day, Rayleigh simply sighed.

The winds were testy, they seemed to mirror Rayleigh's mood at the moment. He kept replaying the moments from last night over and over in his head. There was no other explanation.

It had to have been fate. They weren't meant to die out at sea yesterday, therefore, they didn't.

The blonde sighed again, shaking his head like trying to rid one's thoughts of a very odd dreamscape. Fate— Rayleigh was too tired to laugh outright, but he did manage to smile a smile that bordered on cynical. Since joining Roger's crew, Rayleigh had been forced to accept that things happened for a reason, and now thoughts like fate and destiny were creeping in?

Maybe he hit his head when he passed out?

Joy unspeakable…

"I'll stick with 'things happen for a reason'." He muttered, and resumed checking the ship.

…~…

Roger, for his part, was equal parts relieved and anxiously annoyed -if such a combination was possible-. While he'd been thrilled that they'd made it into port, and stoked by the challenge the sea presented, that _feeling_ had ruined everything!

Roger shook his head to clear the grim thoughts. No matter now, it was done, over-with; they'd made it into port and now they could plan their next move from here. He'd known about this 'feeling' problem of his for years, and he wouldn't let it stop him now.

On to business then, he decided. Rayleigh had told him that they'd had plenty of food, the blonde had not argued with his desire to go anyway though— Roger smirked, Rayleigh, he may not have known exactly what was wrong, but the blonde perceived enough to give him space, and Roger was thoroughly grateful for it. Yesterday's revelation was recalled, thus making Roger's smirk into a full on grin. It cheered him; he wasn't alone anymore.

Bermuda Island was a moderately popular port, it bustled with a loose crowd, but then again, it was a bit early. Roger noted the stores were neat and offered wares for much more reasonable prices than the last port he'd done any browsing.

Surprisingly, the town seemed to have suffered little damage from the storm. Roger had seen various piles of sea weed and small planks of wood in places around the town, but besides that, the town was virtually untouched. Either that or they repaired quickly.

Roger felt a sudden tingle, and looked to the left— and promptly reassessed his earlier thought when he saw an Inn with a wall that looked well damaged…

What in the world could make a hole that big in a building and not damage any others?

Roger narrowed his eyes as he paused a moment to take in the scene. A burly man with salt and pepper hair walked out of the hole in the wall. He was talking to a man that looked a bit out of place in the simple town. Said 'out of place' man wore a fancy suit, complete with a top hat and bow-tie.

The two men looked to be heatedly conversing something about the hole. Curious, Roger focused on them; he couldn't hear what was said over the din of the town, but the gestures and expressions of the burly man showed that he was angry. The other man was an odd contrast.

He was smiling. Rather pompously for a man standing in a wreckage…

Roger was moving along again before he even realized it. Before he turned back to the road though, he, for a second, caught the eye of the burly man.

They silently gazed at one another, but then the burly man looked away in a manner that suggested, to Roger, shame…

Roger then turned and walked back down the street, leaving the Inn with the hole in the wall behind.

Children ran past him, shouting at each other, obviously playing a game, or rather, sibling annoyance that erupted into a chase that turned into a game. He smirked despite himself and watched them vanish in the crowd. A black mass suddenly filled Roger's right corner vision, and he paused with a start as he nearly bumped into the whatever-it-was. The captain looked up, and _then up_ some more, as the— Wow! Now confirmed _very_ tall man, paused in his trek and looked down, _and down_, at Roger, some two and a half feet below the man's common view point.

Roger smiled awkwardly, "sorry 'bout that," he said with a nod, bracing his hat as he gazed up at the man. The _very_ tall man didn't respond immediately, nor did he smile. He just stared with blank scrutiny at Roger.

"Ah," Roger began, somewhat put off by the lack of response, "Well, see you later! I'm off!" and the young captain went on his way. Roger wouldn't admit it for years, but he had to ball his fists and bite his tongue to keep from shivering. The very tall man had watched him leave, Roger had felt his eyes on him, and the creepy sensation it triggered ruffled him.

What was wrong with him? He never acted like this! One spook at sea with that 'feeling' and now normal people freaked him out?

"UGH—!" he suddenly snapped, irritated with his weaknesses. "Nonsense!" he shouted, people around him parted, giving him room and weird looks, but he didn't care. In a huff he made his way to the port again to return to the ship.

He didn't notice the _very_ tall man hadn't moved, after he'd lost sight of Roger, –which took a while, considering his vantage point- he looked up at the building he was standing across from. There was a shadow on the roof of said building. The shadow, had anyone but the _very_ tall man seen it, would have noted that the shadow gave a subtle nod and then slicked away.

…~…

Rayleigh, meanwhile, having finished checking the ship, was in the process of making a list of wares they would need to repair it. They may have made it through the storm, but venturing out again was suicide with their ship as damaged at it was. He estimated prices as he went along, he was only three items into the list, and already he was cringing.

They didn't have enough.

This would be an issue. He vaguely wondered what Roger's reaction would be to this news. Rayleigh hadn't considered this before, but, now that this problem presented itself, he realized that he'd never seen Roger angry before.

Wait a minute, _had_ he?

That odd pressure from Roger…

He'd felt it several times during the storm, but why did the man do it? Did he not know that it stifled people? Rayleigh recalled having to focus very hard to maintain his alertness. The sensation was overwhelming, but he couldn't fathom why.

Had it been anger?

Possible, Rayleigh had experienced feeling waves of anger from people at a distance, so he knew the feeling had the capability of traversing and affecting others from afar. Wouldn't that be drowned out by circumstances though? Anger directed at someone can be ignored by the receiving party if they were busy with something serious, right?

If a storm that threatened to sink their ship wasn't distracting enough to block whatever that crushing feeling from Roger was, then what in the world _had_ the man been feeling at the time?

Anger didn't seem to fit. Roger hadn't snapped at him exactly, but he had been adamant. So adamant that he'd nearly killed them both with his insistence of changing their course at the last minute. Granted, with the storms appearance, there was danger no matter which course they took, but Roger had insisted on the harder one when it was so clearly unwise to do it! Rayleigh had agreed both because he was startled by Roger's— 'intensity' he decided to call it, for the lack of a better word, and because he found that breathing was easier the less bothered Roger seemed at the time.

If not anger though, then what was it?

Something in the back of Rayleigh's mind knew it though, sensed it. It was—

"I'm back, Rayleigh!" A voice called from the pier.

_Speak of the Devil…_ the blonde mused, as he watched Roger approach. The skies rumbled again, ominously, as if agitated by the duo's reunion.

Rayleigh nodded his greeting to the captain, and Roger stopped beside him, assessing the damage of the hull. He whistled.

"Wow…!" he said in muted tones, half amused, half awed.

"My thoughts exactly, Captain. It's a mess."

"It actually looks a bit better than I imagined it would." Roger supplied, putting a hand on his hip and leaning over slightly to gaze deeper into the berth to view their ship better. "From the sounds that I caught over the storm last night, it sounded like we were going to be making port in pieces." The straw-hat captain smirked, as if he found this funny, and it irritated Rayleigh.

"This damage could likely have been minimized if we'd gone to the North port as planned, Roger." Rayleigh stated flatly, making his companion wince and look at him as he stood to full height again.

The captain was silent, but looked at Rayleigh steadily, his expression plain inscrutable. The blonde sighed.

"Look, I'll try not to blow up at you if you give me a real reason why you insisted we change our course like that. I'm glad we made it through safely, Roger, but we nearly killed ourselves, and I'd like to know why we landed in that position in the first place."

Roger's face darkened, and he turned away, something akin to mumbling coming from him. Rayleigh's temper simmered, but he forced it down. His mind fell back to when the captain dealt with that unreasonable shop keeper back when they'd first met. Roger had done _something_ but when things settled down, he backed off.

He had reasons for his actions.

So Rayleigh began fishing, working his earlier hunch into the mix.

"I know you had reasons, but can you throw me a bone here?" He asked, forcing his voice to be calmer than he felt, though he figured that Roger could tell that he was frustrated, but still, the straw-hat captain didn't respond or look at him. Rayleigh then continued, inwardly cringing for the possible reaction he'd receive, "I mean no offense –I've seen differently, after all-, but it seemed to me like you were afraid of something."

Well, _that_ comment got a reaction.

Roger's head snapped around, very nigh glaring at Rayleigh, and the blonde felt a sharp wave of that 'intensity' from Roger, but he needed to know. If Roger's 'intensity' was going to become the norm, he needed to know what triggered it, so he stood his ground, though his senses were buzzing warning signals.

A silence followed as the two men stared at one another, neither giving an inch in whatever contest had unwittingly been established.

A few moments more pass, and some unuttered truce must have been reached, at least on Roger's end anyway. The captain sighed heavily, Rayleigh still felt the intensity, but it was ebbing away slowly.

Roger stayed his hat even though there was no wind currently attempting to dislodge it; a frustrated gesture it seemed, and he glanced at his first mate and said tersely, "Maybe I _was_ afraid."

Rayleigh need not wonder what Roger's anger was like. He was witnessing it now; a mellowed version, as the anger seemed more aimed at its source rather than its agitator. The first mate would swear on his dying breath that he'd heard Roger borderline growl out that admission.

The blonde took a calming breath, and reassessed his captain.

"Afraid of what?" he asked.

Roger's nostrils flared a bit, and Rayleigh felt something inside him coil tight, bracing for— he wasn't sure what, but bracing all the same.

"I—" Roger looked to be trying to say, but then paused. "I— don't know."

To say Rayleigh was surprised would be an understatement. Something in him stoked the fires of his temper though. Had Roger changed their course and nearly killed them both on a whim?

"You don't know?" he asked, making an effort to be reasonable and keep the incredulous tone out of his voice, but it must have been on his face, given Roger's reaction.

"Don't look at me like that!" he ground out, seemingly trying not to shout and only half succeeding.

Rayleigh's eyes narrowed, "Well, I'm trying to fathom how you could not know what you were afraid of when you made such distinctive moves to avoid whatever it was."

Roger made a show of taking a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He looked at his first mate, they'd not really had an argument before. They'd disagreed on certain things, but had yet, up till this point, to have a problem over something more personal; central.

The thought that Rayleigh might think him a coward rankled the straw-hat captain like nothing else.

He was _not_ a coward.

Rayleigh didn't know _anything_ about him, he had no right to just assume.

Rayleigh didn't know—

He didn't _know_.

Roger sighed. This was stupid. He looked at his first mate now, the blonde stood erect and purposed in his stance on this. Regardless of what Rayleigh thought, if this continued it would hurt them. Something like… his fear- no matter how much he hated to call it that- was a silly reason to lose a first mate over, especially one as good as Rayleigh.

Roger took off his hat, he could almost feel the blonde beside him lift an eyebrow, but he studied his hat anyway. The straw was still a bit damp from the storm last night, like a memory holding on to this precious property of his.

'_I'll take it with me on my journey!_' he recalled a distant voice saying once.

'_It will be my constant companion, it will see everything I see, experience everything I experience!_'

He then looked at the sea beyond their docked ship. It still churned testily, the odd wind that had been blowing all day licked at the two men, providing an almost tangible audience to their predicament.

"I don't know what it is." Roger said at length, keeping his eyes on the sea. "I don't know, but I've had this— fear, for the greater part of my life. I've never had a decent explanation for it."

Rayleigh cocked his head slightly to the side. Roger's tone had changed. It sounded tired, with a tinge of melancholic loss— what was that about?

"For how long?" he asked, figuring he may as well bite. His temper was calming, but he still wanted to know what was going on.

Roger shrugged, and looked at him again, his face was a bit tense, but otherwise unbothered. Rayleigh wasn't the only one who'd regained his calm.

"I was a child when I first felt it." He explained slowly, and he looked at his hat again.

_Before I got this_…

Rayleigh felt himself relax a little more. So this was a long established problem… "What happened?" he asked, prepared, despite his temper, to hear him out.

Roger's eye twitched, and then shrugged, "I lived alone, so I fished for my food. While I was doing that one day, that's when I felt it for the first time."

"This 'it' being the sensation you felt in the storm?"

Roger nodded. "Yes, I don't know what it was though. I had no reason to be afraid even then. The bad people that fished in the same place weren't due to arrive for hours, and even if they were early, I could swim and hold my breath for a while, so if I needed to hide I could. I had nothing to be afraid of but…" he stopped and gave a frustrated sigh, and put his hat on again, letting his hand linger on the crown.

"I only feel it when I'm on, in, or very near the sea. I don't know what it is."

Rayleigh pondered the information. Filing it away for later recall, but he nodded, and looked at Roger seriously.

"Well, I'm glad that it wasn't just a whim, I'll try to keep it in mind for next time."

Roger heard the intent even if the exact words weren't said. This was Rayleigh's apology for his sharpness earlier.

Satisfied, he smiled at the blonde. "So," he began, his usual mood returning, "What about the ship?"

Rayleigh's expression took a dive at the question.

"Well—"

_**Author's note**__: Hello again! I hope you all like this chapter. It's a bit slow, I know, but it will pick up soon, don't worry. I enjoy writing dialogue between Roger and Rayleigh! They are amazing! I hope Mr. Oda lets us see a bit more of what their real relationship was like sometime; it'd be fun to see I think. I hope I did/ am doing these great characters justice, it would be a shame to misuse them. Tell me what you all think! _


	4. Chapter 4 The Town

The Adventures of the King:

**One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda**:

Chapter 4

The Town

Rayleigh decided then and there that trying to anticipate what Roger would do or how he would react should be a task done only when he thought he missed having headaches.

Not having enough money to buy what they needed to fix their ship, Rayleigh had reluctantly suggested getting temporary jobs at the Bermuda port to raise their funds. It wasn't an option either of them liked, but fixing their ship was less expensive than just getting a new one.

Thus, the pirate duo went job hunting, and fortunately hadn't had to look far.

Rayleigh had been surprised that when he mentioned that they should get temporary jobs, Roger was silent for a moment, no complaining, no angry outburst, but thoughtful, and then he'd perked up a moment later.

"I know where we can start looking." The straw hat captain had said. Thus Roger had led his first mate through the town until they reached a building that, weirdly enough, had a giant hole in its front wall.

The Innkeeper, Bron (as the Inn was called 'Bron's Inn'), looked like he was ready to skin someone when they'd approached; he looked at them suspiciously, sizing them up, unless Rayleigh missed his guess.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

Rayleigh wasn't in the mood to deal with someone else in a mood, but thankfully, Roger was a step ahead of him.

The straw hat captain grinned, "I see you have a bit of a problem on your hands," he said, indicating the conspicuous opening in the wall of his establishment with a nod. Bron's eyes narrowed. Roger continued, "We're looking for work, you hiring?"

Rather blunt, Rayleigh had to admit, but he must be getting used to it, as it didn't make him flinch, but it was a bit funny watching Bron wince at it. The man seemed thoughtful for a moment, he eyed the hole in his wall, something dark passing over his features, and then he looked back at his potential employees.

"Your name?" the Inn keeper stated. A familiar spark in Roger's eye drew Rayleigh's attention, and the captain grinned.

"I'm Gol D. Roger." Roger replied with a greeting nod and he eyed his first mate with a note of curiosity in his gaze.

Rayleigh blinked; this was the first time he'd heard his Roger's full name. _D—?_ He thought, curiously the name had an odd ring to it. He also noted belatedly that he'd never formally introduced himself to his captain— oops…

The blonde looked at Bron, smiling politely, "I'm Silvers Rayleigh, Sir, and it's a pleasure." Bron looked at them, an inscrutable look on his face. The man then looked at the sea, not far from where they stood, and then back to them; something in his sharp, unreadable eyes changed, perhaps they softened?

"I could use some help, yes." Bron agreed with a bow and a hint of a smile.

…~…

First things first for the newly hired duo, Bron showed them inside, and quickly made up a list of what was needed to rebuild the wall. Roger eyed the inside of the Inn with an odd wariness that puzzled Rayleigh. Roger noted the destruction of the inside of the Inn, his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, and Bron handed the list of supplies to Rayleigh.

"Pick these up for me will you?" and he shuffled off and started tidying up, having noticed Roger's scrutiny of the place.

…~…

"How does an Inn get so damaged anyway?" Roger asked as they made their way through the small shop to the clerk desk to make their purchase. Rayleigh shrugged, or rather half shrugged, as his heavy laden shoulder chose not to rise on command at the moment.

"I could have been the storm last night, or maybe an accident," he replied, "weird things happen from time to time." They came to the clerk desk, a man with light brown hair and a black apron stood behind it, and Rayleigh put the heavy bag on the desk and handed the clerk a paper slip.

The clerk held up a hand to stay his explanation. "For Bron, am I right?" he asked, smiling slightly. Roger and Rayleigh looked surprised, but the clerk was forthcoming enough with his own explanation.

"I saw what happened to his Inn," he frowned, and then shook his head sympathetically. "Shame, he didn't deserve that. Are you two helping him out?"

Roger nodded, "Yeah, he's more helping us out though." Rayleigh finished the thought when the clerk bent his head curiously.

"Our ship was damaged during the storm."

"Ah, I thought that ship was new!" the clerk mused as he tallied the prices on the wares they bought. He looked at his customers, "I'm glad he has help though, everyone knows that Bron would never ask for assistance."

"Never—?" Rayleigh asked, a bit shocked. The clerk went about putting their items in another bag as he explained.

"I mean that he doesn't ask for help often. He's a capable man, does things himself; _that_ kind of man. He hates bothering people, so he doesn't unless he has to."

Roger grunted half good humored, half bemused, "Knowing that, I'm glad we asked first now. I'd been wondering if that'd been a good decision or not."

The clerk nodded. "Yes, it was, and thank you for helping him out. I know you have reasons of your own, but if anyone deserves to be lent a hand in his town it's Bron."

He waved as the pirate duo left the shop and made their way to the next shop with fabric. It turned out that everywhere Rayleigh tried to give people the paper slip –Bron told them, as he couldn't give them straight money to use, they would give these paper slips to the clerks of the stores, and the clerks in turn would send him the bill for the items later. He'd done it before, so there should be little trouble- that all the clerks had told him to keep them, that they knew where to send the bill.

"Well, he did say he'd done this before," Roger commented to Rayleigh after the third shop clerk told them to keep the slip.

They stood in line at a local paint shop, both pirates sporting bags of wares now. Rayleigh frowned.

"Yes, but it seems like it's happened enough for people to know on sight?" They were speaking in rather quiet tones, but the folks in line heard them anyway. A lady just before them in line smiled when she looked at them.

"Bron has been having rather trying luck lately." Roger and Rayleigh looked at her curiously, but it was the clerk three people up that continued.

"That hole in his wall is the biggest thing to happen thus far!" several heads nodded in agreement. The man that was at the clerk's desk now commented a bit roughly.

"Stupid carriage was going way too fast."

Roger's eyebrows rose, nearly meeting his hairline, "A carriage did that?" he asked, shocked, "I thought it was damage from the storm!"

"Afraid not," an older man behind them in line mumbled.

The pirate duo looked behind them at the old man. He sported a cane and had a red scarf about his neck. He continued, "The crazy bat that ran into his shop even had the audacity to say that his shop was in the way. Pitiful…" he mumbled, and a few agreeing grunts followed.

"Wouldn't the authorities force the jerk to pay for the damage though?" Roger asked.

The man in front of the woman in front of the pirates spoke up then, his long hair swaying when he turned to face them, "The port leaders said that the guy was connected to the right people, so they couldn't do anything about it."

"Connected to the right people?" Roger asked, but Rayleigh was the first to proffer a theory. "Nobility, likely," he sighed and went on, "at least, they're the only force strong enough to escape the law without so much as a rebuke."

Roger nodded, "Ah, yeah, I think I've heard a few stories like that somewhere. Shame though, now he's stuck fixing the damage."

The clerk sighed, "Yes, it is a shame, though I think Bron can be a bit too stubborn at times. The village got together and pooled money to help him out. We gave it to the Port leaders to give to him, but they said he wouldn't take it." He shook his head, a tinge frustrated, but there was an obvious care in his eyes. "The proud fool..."

Leaving that shop initiated the last trek of their day, according to the list Rayleigh carried, that is. Roger and Rayleigh's hands were well full, but they persevered through it.

The last shop was a small lumber-ware store.

"You think we could arrange this so only one of us carries the bulk of it until we leave?" Rayleigh asked, looking down at their loaded down hands. Roger nodded.

"I'll carry it, you're the only one who can interpret that chicken scratch."

He referred to the list that Bron had given them; apparently, penmanship wasn't among the Inn Keeper's better virtues. Rayleigh chuckled, but didn't argue. It took a while to arrange things so Roger could hold everything and walk around, but they made due.

Walking down the aisles of the small shop, Rayleigh skimmed over the prices of the wood. The blonde was figuring the numbers when Roger spoke.

"Silvers Rayleigh—" he said in a thoughtful tone. Naturally, said man's attention was gained immediately. The first mate looked at him, gaze inquiring. Roger seemed not to notice, but continued anyway. "Good name," he mused, "has a nice ring to it."

Rayleigh wasn't sure if he was thinking out loud or if he expected a reply, so he simply hummed appreciatively. "I've never heard of the name 'Gol' before." The blonde put in. He felt Roger's eyes on him, and he continued, glancing at his captain, "Where's it from? Do you know?"

There was a silence, but Rayleigh could almost hear the gears in his captain's head turning. The blonde guessed that he was ordering what he would say first.

"Our name isn't a common one."

Rayleigh blinked, and looked at Roger fully, as if seeing his whole expression would make the words make more sense.

No such luck.

Roger's gaze was there to meet his first mates when he'd turned. That intensity was back, but it was contained to the pirate's eyes alone. There was more to those words than face value revealed. There was a story in there somewhere, but the intensity also spoke of a secret that wouldn't be revealed just yet.

"I see." The blonde replied a bit hesitantly, but said no more on the subject.

Supplies gathered, Roger and Rayleigh made their way to the clerk's desk. There was a bubbly sound of chatter at the desk there were three people in line ahead of the pirates, two women and a man and the clerk.

"I'm telling you, he did it on purpose!" The woman third in line said heatedly, she glared out the shop window, bending somewhat as if to see something outside. The man replied.

"No one does stuff like that on purpose; it was just a freak accident!"

The woman who was at the clerk's desk shushed them, glancing around, she looked uncomfortable, "At least no one was hurt this time. Those men, they're barbaric hoodlums!"

"Accident or not," the clerk said in a diplomatic tone, gaining the trio's attention, and the pirate's as well. "It was taken care of, so there's no need to be riled up."

"What happened?" Roger asked, the group looked at them, as if only now registering their presence.

The woman who'd spoken first, answered first, still heated, "The harbor guards, they're being despicable again!"

"Who?" Rayleigh asked.

"Oh, you're the men that Bron hired, right?" The woman first in line clarified for the group. "They wouldn't know."

"There's nothing to know!" the man in between the ladies said drily, rolling his eyes, "Ignore them, they're paranoid females; looking for trouble where no trouble is!"

"There is trouble, and you cannot possibly deny that it could have been them." The first woman snapped at him.

"Uh, what?" Roger said, shifting his load, but looking confused.

"Gracious!" The clerk said in surprise, and he walked around the desk and rolled a cart away from a corner and brought it to Roger and Rayleigh. "Here, put your things down, forgive me for not noticing sooner!"

"We're fine," Roger said with a grin, but he put his load down anyway, "We're strong." Rayleigh, following suit putting his part of the load down, eyed his captain. How could he make a declaration like that?

The clerk smiled politely, though he still looked guilty, the woman from the line went on, "The harbor guards of this town bully people and they cause trouble!"

"It was an—" the man tried to say, but the woman spoke over him.

"Those guards are the ones who ran that cart into Bron's Inn!"

…~…

Roger and Rayleigh were silent in their surprise, and the woman ranted on, still speaking over the man in line,

"They hate Bron."

"They can't hate him, he's never done anything to them!"

"No, people hate for dumber things, I assure you. They did that to be cruel!"

"If they wanted to be cruel, they'd throw him in prison!"

"What's the 'fun' in that, when he can be humiliated in public; have people pity him! You know how much Bron hates that!"

"Everyone, please—!" the clerk said in a firm, but calm voice. The arguing duo quieted. And the clerk went on, but he addressed the pirates, "The mayors of the town will see to those men. The guards have been known to be troublesome, but they protect the town from pirates and bandits, so we mostly deal with it."

Rayleigh's eyes narrowed, "If they protect you, you shouldn't have to fear them." Roger nodded in agreement.

"Thank you!" The woman in line announced, throwing her hands up and glaring at the man in line. The woman who was at the clerk's desk spoke up,

"Yes, the mayors usually deal with the guards if things get out of hand. The guards protect the town, but the mayors protect us from them." She smiled kindly at the words, and even the bickering duo behind her seemed to agree.

"The mayors are good here, then?" Roger ventured, his tone sounded odd to Rayleigh's ears.

"The mayors are our saving grace." The clerk said definitively. The customers nodded emphatically.

"If they're so good, then why not get better help? You know, the kind that won't pester the citizens?" Roger stated more then asked.

Rayleigh made a mental note to ask Roger what his tone is all about, he almost winced, Roger sounded borderline annoyed.

"The harbor guards have… implied, in the past that they… liked, it here, so they wanted to stay. If the mayors ever were more insistent, the guards would cause more trouble."

"Then why not call the marines?" Rayleigh asked, something in the back of his mind was waving red flags, but he pressed it down, figuring he might be being paranoid.

"The mayors have it under control." The man in the line stated, and added, "We've had a meeting, and they told us that they have a plan to do away with those men, but they need time, so they asked us to be strong, and endure just a little longer, and we have thus far."

The clerk walked back to his desk and went on with his customers wares. "The mayors, Palos and Gendo are the backbone of this town. They help us be strong; I don't think any of us would be dealing with this half as well if they weren't here."

"No one but Bron, that is," The woman third in line, then second, as the first lady got her things and stepped aside. "That man never lets those guards push him around. He pummels them if they bother him."

The man, now at the clerks desk, nodded, and smiled, "He stands on his own, that Bron, I really admire that man. Between the mayors and Bron," he paused and looked at the pirates, looking vivid and resolved, "This town won't crumble with them around."

…~…

"Well, they're determined not to despair." Rayleigh commented after they'd left the shop. "That's something."

Roger hummed as he pushed the cart –the clerk let them borrow it, since they were doing something for Bron- . "I don't know, how would you deal with something like this happening in your hometown?" Roger asked him.

Rayleigh didn't have to think much on that one, "I wouldn't." he said simply.

He felt Roger smile. "Good." The captain said with a nod, his straw hat bobbing with the motion.

They were almost back to Bron's Inn. The blonde was about to speak again, when he suddenly felt that intensity from Roger blast into him, but before he had a chance to register what caused it, a dark mass filled Rayleigh's corner vision, he felt a thrush of wind, and then he heard a crash.

Rayleigh whipped around, and saw that their cart was now on its side, and Roger was just jumping back on his feet, he held his hat in place, but he was glaring at something off to the side. Rayleigh followed his line of sight, and spotted what could only be what had filled his corner vision earlier.

The blonde starred at, possibly the biggest man he'd ever seen.

That was saying something. Rayleigh was used to being the tallest person in a crowd, but this person effectively _dwarfed_ him!

Roger continued to glare. He said nothing, but the Blonde knew something was up. He wasn't the only one who knew either, the townspeople around them had backed away, and had become very quiet.

The stare down continued. That intensity from Roger was sharp and tingling on Rayleigh's nerves. He looked at the _very_ tall man a ways away. He had not moved. He simply stared back at his captain, and he felt the intensity start growing, on the side, he saw people wincing and stepping further away.

Could they feel it too?

Rayleigh made his decision. He took a breath, and moved, taking a step toward his captain. He felt unfamiliar, and heavy eyes on him. He knew without looking that the _very_ tall man was watching him now, but the blonde's focus was divided. The closer he got to Roger the stronger the intensity was. When he was finally at Roger's side, he put a hand on the man's shoulder.

Roger flinched and he glared at Rayleigh. It was not enough that _that_ man over there purposefully knocked their cart over, but he could sense his first mate telling him to let it go!

"— did that on purpose." He snapped like a curse under his breath. Rayleigh nodded, he seemed shaky, but Roger dismissed it.

"Too many people could get involved." Rayleigh said quietly, and gave a subtle gesture around them. Roger restrained a flinch, he expanded his focus. Indeed, there were people all around them. Now was not the time for a fight. That didn't mean he had to like it though.

"Fine then." He mumbled, but, for the life of him, he'd die before he turned his back to this guy. He had to leave first. "What are you looking at?" Roger snapped at the very tall man, not an ounce of shame in his tone. "Get binoculars if you can't see where you're going from up there!" Rayleigh cringed.

The very tall man, Rayleigh might've sworn that he was made of stone, but he cracked a smirk, and he slowly turned and lumbered his way down the street, the townspeople parting, giving the man plenty of space.

"Jerk—!" Roger groused, annoyed, and he began picking up their things. Rayleigh joined him, but then the other people of the town pitched in.

"Becareful around him." A woman in a green dress advised as she helped right the cart.

"Was he one of the harbor guards?" Rayleigh asked, Roger shot him a look, keenly interested. A man beside them, picking up wood planks nodded and answered.

"Yes, and his name is Pob, he's very strong and likes being trouble."

"Pob, huh—" Roger mumbled, and he looked the direction said man had gone.

"He's probably giving you trouble because you're helping Bron." The woman in green said in a whisper, and several grave villagers nodded.

"Why?" Roger asked. But, he thought, hadn't he seen that Pob guy near Bron's place when he'd first seen the damaged Inn?

The man grunted in a tone that was somewhere between amused and nervous. "Bron socked him and sent the ugly lug flying one day. The guy's despised him since."

That made sense.

"Just be careful, Sirs," the lady said entreatingly. "Those men are dangerous." The fear in the air was nigh tangible. Roger and Rayleigh gave their thanks, and with their cart on its feet again, the pirates were on their way.

…~…

"There you are!" A voice called out to them. Rayleigh looked up, and Roger looked around the heaping load in the cart and saw Bron stand up from the entrance stairs where he'd been waiting for them. Rayleigh waved.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost." Bron went on, smiling as he saw the wares they had.

"The clerk let us use the cart to get it over here." Rayleigh explained when Bron eyed the cart. "He said we could bring it back tomorrow." Bron nodded and he waved them toward the door of the Inn.

"You get everything?" he asked. Rayleigh gave him a rough summary of what had happened at the shops, but he left out what had happened in the street, Roger noted that with some curiosity. Why didn't he tell Bron?

The three made quick work of getting the wares into the Inn, and after Roger pulled the empty cart into the Inn, Bron shut the door. The Inn looked tidier, and a black tarp now hung both inside and outside the hole in the wall of the Inn and was secured with rocks and hooks to keep it from blowing away.

There was a silence then. Bron had them help him organize the pile of wares they'd bought. Afterward Bron stretched and commented, "That ought to be enough for the day," he headed for his kitchen and looked back at his employees. "Are you two hungry?"

A loud, obnoxious growl from One Gol D. Roger's stomach answered the question well enough. Rayleigh snickered, but Bron wasn't so subtle; he outright laughed.

"Then stay here for dinner, you've earned it!"

And so they did.

In the back of Rayleigh's mind though, there still lingered a question. One that he'd not asked Roger when the man had mentioned his name.

Why had he said '_our_' name?

_**Author's note**__: Hi There! I have a bit more time on my hands, so I may be able to work on this more than I thought. I like coming up with a plot and figuring out where everything goes and when it goes! It's fun! Just so everyone knows, I did intend for Rayleigh to ask about 'Gol' instead of just the 'D' in his name. Figured I'd add that for the sake of clarity. Tell me what you all think! _


	5. Chapter 5 Trouble Stirs

The Adventures of the King:

**One Piece belongs to Eiichiro Oda**:

Chapter 5

Trouble Stirs

"This is getting ridiculous." Rayleigh growled, his patience wearing thin at long last.

"I think I'm going to go bankrupt simply buying paint cans." Bron muttered, massaging his temples that throbbed with a head-ache. He sounded frustrated, but resigned, as if having expected such a thing.

Roger was silent, but Rayleigh flinched as he caught the look on the captain's face.

The man was livid.

The wall was mainly finished, but the coat of paint that had been put on the outside wall was now splattered with black and green paint. It would have to be repainted.

The harbor guards had been subtly and not-so-subtly hindering the men's progress with the wall. Roger had gone out for a walk one evening and had noticed that some hoodlums were tearing the tarp that Bron had put up before the wall had been rebuilt, and the pirate captain had, naturally, confronted them about it.

Rayleigh suspected that the straw hat captain's anger alone had spooked the troublemakers into running without a fight; the captain had been rather sharp when he'd returned to the ship that evening. None of the villagers had been out to witness the exchange, as, Roger and Rayleigh had learned very soon that the town had a curfew endorsed by the mayors to keep the people safe from the harbor guards.

"You know," Roger commented one evening at dinner. He caught an apple from rolling off the table when the ship cantered to the side, he examined it, and continued, speaking "It's a little too convenient that the curfew more helps the guards do their junk than hinders them."

Rayleigh nodded, and sipped from his flask, He was leaning back in his chair. "Yes, and it's also convenient how this trouble is as far reaching as it is, but the people put up with it." The blonde frowned and glanced at the oil lamp lighting the cabin, "Good mayors would have called the marines by now."

"If the marines were liable to actually do something about it," Roger put in tersely, "Remember what the people said about when that carriage crashed into Bron's wall?"

"Ah, yes, there is that too, I suppose." Being well connected has its perks for troublemakers I guess. A shame that all crooks aren't idiots; it'd make life a bit easier."

"These crooks aren't smart, Rayleigh," the captain put in, and the blonde regarded him, expectantly, "The people won't do anything, and that's why they're getting away with it. I get that the people trust their mayors, but when is enough, enough? Are they going to wait until someone is seriously hurt to do something?"

"You do have a point there."

….…~…

The evening was quiet, as was the morning that followed, but morning revealed a whole different reason for the quiet. There was a dimly buzzing crowd outside Bron's Inn. Roger and Rayleigh looked at each other, neither of them needed words to agree that the guards had likely struck again. They moved through the crowd, but once people noticed them, they parted to make way, and the problem was quite obvious.

The wall hadn't been touched by paint this time, but worse. There was a hole in the wall again, though it was smaller, roughly the circumference of Roger's straw hat. The hole sported jagged edges, as if someone had, somehow punched the hole into the wall with a fist.

"This is despicable!" a lady snapped in a whisper somewhere in the crowd.

Rayleigh couldn't agree more, he felt his own anger stir over the unfairness of it all. Bron was only trying to fix his wall and get on with his life, and these harbor guards were preventing it simply because they could! A slight tingle crept up the blonde's spine, and he eyed his captain, and something inside him was grimly satisfied that Roger seemed to share his ire.

Roger had to breathe.

The semi-automatic physical reflex wasn't responding how it should in place of his anger. Seeing the new damage to Bron's wall had him seeing red for a split second. Usually such anger made his breathing halt, but a tantrum wouldn't do now. He had to consciously remind himself to inhale.

Contrary to popular belief of those who knew Roger well –save Rayleigh-, Roger did have self-control. His temper was striking, but since he was rarely so angered, it was an easy flaw to overlook, to him at least.

This could have been ignored, maybe laughed off in a bluff, but Roger was fixated. The hole had been _punched_ through. Someone had put their fist through Bron's wall, and the straw hat captain knew exactly who'd done it.

"Pod—" Roger growled in a voice barely above a whisper.

Rayleigh glanced his way in what looked to be alarm.

"What's all this?!" Bron's voice sounded from the door of the Inn. Roger and Rayleigh looked at him, apparently wearing their thoughts on their faces, and the whispering crowd went silent. Bron huffed in embarrassed annoyance, "You all have work to do without solving the mystery of the new opening in my wall! Go on, now! I'll speak with the mayors about this."

The people looked hesitant, but they slowly left the front of the Inn and went on with their day. Roger and Rayleigh remained, still looking at Bron. The burly Inn keeper waved them inside.

Once indoors, Roger got straight to the point. "It was Pob."

Bron nodded solemnly, Rayleigh recognized the flare of frustration in the man's visage, but didn't comment on it. Bron did though, "Should've knocked that guy harder; maybe it would've raddled his conscience back to life."

"Are you really going to talk to the mayors about this?" Roger asked, and Bron sighed heavily.

"I'll mention it, though I doubt they'll do much. Them with their plans and all…"

"Did you hear it when they did this?" Rayleigh asked his employer, "I imagine that something like that would make quite a racket."

"I did." Bron stated plainly, but he glared at his feet as he added, "But I can't do anything. I could beat Pob down again, but what good would it do when his cronies would just wreck my property in retaliation?"

"Point taken," Rayleigh conceded.

This was annoying, to say the least. Rayleigh was thoroughly fit to be tied by this point. "Why don't we call the marines?" He looked at Roger when he said this, and the straw hat captain looked willing, but hesitant.

"Please don't." Bron said, more than asked. "You'll only make it worse."

"How can getting help make things worse?" Rayleigh asked, and Roger noted the borderline steel in his first mate's tone. "I'm not thrilled about having to call the marines either, but at least they'll bring some order to this nonsense that the mayors are failing to address!"

Bron put a hand to his fore head, looking very tired suddenly. "I—" he started, but paused, and sighed again, "There's a lot going on that you're not aware of; mostly behind the scenes, and it has a lot to do with the past."

Roger's eyes narrowed, and Bron added, "Just leave it alone for now. I'll fix the hole, but there is still much to do, and you two still need to fix your ship." Rayleigh was quiet, but Roger could tell he wasn't satisfied.

"Besides," Roger put in, more for Rayleigh's sake than Bron's, "Would calling the marines even be possible?" The blonde looked at his captain, his face was confused, so Roger explained. " The guy that ran into Bron's wall in the first place was connected to the right people, remember? So he didn't get in trouble. If the guards are causing this much trouble so liberally, then they must have assurances that they won't be punished at all; which makes me wonder if the line to the marines has been severed."

Rayleigh's eyebrows were almost integrated with his hairline. "I hadn't thought of that." He admitted, and his expression now took on a look of sickened horror rather than anger.

Bron nodded, looking grave, which said enough about the likely truth of Roger's theory.

"Anyway," Roger said, his tone lighter, but his face still cast in dark shadows that had nothing to do with his hat. "We have work to do, so let's do it. Rayleigh and I have to work on the ship tonight; we should get as much done here as possible."

The trio was agreed, and they set out to make the most of the day.

Said day's start was mainly spent indoors preparing to patch the hole from the inside. Rayleigh was sanding the edges of the hole while Roger and Bron prepared a board to patch said hole. Bron stepped out for a minute to go purchase some sealing solution for the patch that they had prepared, and Roger stepped outside and began sanding the edges of the hole.

Roger worked diligently, he found that his anger could readily be burned down by sanding the wood edges as hard as he could. The rhythm established a sort of trance, the white noise of the continuous sound of scraping sandpaper blocked out a lot of the background noise of the town bustling by.

"You're a persistent one." A low, and big voice stated right beside the captain's ear. Roger Rocketed to his feet in a flash, biting his tongue fiercely to restrain a yelp of surprise. Right beside him was a crouching Pob, still enormous even in his current stance. Roger was easily eye to eye with the man now, and he glared sharply at the intruder of his personal bubble.

"What do you want?" The captain growled lowly, as to not cause a scene, not that he cared, he was just being mindful of the people around them, though they looked warily at them, they kept moving.

Pob didn't immediately reply, he seemed content to simply observe Roger's reaction, which only served to infuriate Roger, but not for the starring.

How in the living world had this slug gotten so close without him realizing it? He could feel his presence _now_, perfectly noticeable! Earlier though, had he just been distracted?

No way.

He's kept a very sharp eye out for this guy on his walks in the evening, and even when he'd been distracted by something, he'd always been able to sense this guy's gaze. That night, he hadn't told Rayleigh about it, but when he'd gone out that one night and had caught those idiots tearing holes in the tarp before they'd put up the wall, Roger had torn those hapless whelps a new one for it! Pob though, had shown up. While Roger had been fighting, he'd almost fallen over from how unexpectedly he'd picked up the man's presence. The looming man hadn't said or done anything about the scene, but he'd collected the trounced hoodlums and had lumbered off and away.

On other walks, Roger had both seen and sensed him from a distance. He was sure that the giant of a man had taken to watching him when he was out walking; he could always pick up his gaze. Only today, he just hadn't!

"What?" Roger asked.

Pob just looked at him for a moment, and then he looked at the hole that Roger had been sanding. "Cleaning up the mess," he said, and he inclined his head at the hole. Roger scowled.

"A mess _you_ made, yes." Pob might've smiled, but it was hard to tell.

"What makes you think that?"

Roger wouldn't let this guy make him feel stupid. Roger was certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this hole was Pob's handiwork. "No one else in this town could make a hole in a wall like this." He stated, glaring at the man, his gaze made it clear that even if he denied it, Roger would still believe it.

This time Pob's smile was unmistakable, triumphant even. It honestly made Roger want to knock the ugly lug for a loop like he had those cronies, but Rayleigh chose that moment to enter.

"Roger, I think we're ready to put up the wood on the inside."

Roger looked up from glaring at Pob, to his first mate. The blonde was looking at Roger and the situation steadily, and with wary alertness. Roger hadn't caught what the man's tone had been when he'd spoken, but if he had to guess, it would likely have been distinct enough to draw immediate attention, but careful enough not to be challenging.

What happened next honestly churned Roger's stomach. Pob, the ugly and decidedly dangerous ticking time-bomb, turned his head, almost inhumanly, his neck twisted nigh completely around, and he looked directly at Rayleigh.

Roger wasn't sure what was worse, Pob's actions to hinder their progress, or his attempts on people, particularly, one of _his_ people…!

Rayleigh put all he could into suppressing his reaction to this Pob character. He'd never had the man's eyes focused so directly on him before, and it was quite disturbing, and that was without the creepy neck turn he'd just witnessed.

Roger seemed to come to his rescue though, Rayleigh felt that intensity again, almost as if it were directed at Pob, but the blonde could feel it nonetheless. He decided to draw strength from it. This lug had him outsized, not outnumbered, Roger being there meant he wasn't dealing with the weirdo alone.

Rayleigh was, if nothing else, very good at playing it cool when he wanted to, and with his new confidence, it wasn't really an act at all. He looked casually at his captain beyond Pob, and spoke with all the care of a sunbathing lizard,

"Done socializing? I need some help in here." He smirked for good measure on his next words, "You can play with your friends later."

Like a soap bubble, the tension just popped and vanished. Roger blinked and looked blankly at his first mate. The confidence in the blonde's gaze meant something significant, he could tell.

And Pob's face may have been solid, but Roger was certain he sensed something in the Lug deflate.

Catching on, Roger didn't bother being serious. "Yeah, party pooper, ruin all the fun why don't ya!" Rayleigh laughed, and he was satisfied in seeing Pob's now confirmed _semi-solid_ countenance twitch with some emotion that the first mate was readily pleased to note, looked suspiciously like confused irritation.

He'd definitely been looking for a reaction.

"Come on then, Roger, I need you to hold the board."

"You're a slave driver!" Roger accused playfully, smirking, and walked around Pob, he tried not to look so smug, but the giant of a man must have caught it anyway, and stood to foot as Roger ascended the stairs. Roger paused and looked at Pob, refusing to look even the slightest bit perturbed at his presence.

"Until next time then," the straw hat captain said, tipping his hat and he went inside.

….…~….

Door closed, Rayleigh suppressed a shiver that threatened to coarse through him. "Well," he said, running a hand through his hair while looking a Roger, "That went well."

"Good line too, by the way." Roger complimented, "I think he was knocked down a few pegs when you mentioned me playing with friends."

"I sounded like my mother," Rayleigh deadpanned, but Roger laughed, and the blonde joined him.

"Let's get this wall finished." Roger announced with a grin. Rayleigh nodded and they set to work.

….~….

A few hours later, Bron returned, he marched through the door, and slammed it shut behind him, and stomped into the kitchen. Roger and Rayleigh were sitting at the table watching the man. They'd finished the outside and the inside patch, and had returned indoors to rest, and to discuss their ship. Pob had not made another appearance, but Roger figured that it was just a matter of time; vaguely, he wondered if Bron's attitude had anything to do with the looming giant.

Even without his wondering, Bron seemed eager enough to vent his frustrations, so they would've found out either way.

"They're idiots, I tell you!" he snarled crossly, looking for all the world like a caged tiger with the key to his cage in its grasp only helpless because its paws are too big to use it; a condition also known as frustration.

"What happened?" Rayleigh asked, taking the queue to let the man speak his peace.

Bron looked at them, his gaze was sharp with anger, and his fists were clenched, white knuckled with suppresses emotion. "I ran into the mayors today, and they had some _wonderful_ news."

"Doesn't sound like its wonderful news," Roger stated simply.

"Of course it was!" Bron snapped theatrically, waving his arms around; his frustration very evident, "The mayors have decided –yes, _decided_, not recommended, or asked- that it would be best for me to close down, as to not antagonize the harbor guards!"

"You shouldn't have to move." Rayleigh agreed, and he fisted his hands under the table. Roger's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not complaining, but, it's not like they've targeted anyone else in particular, right?" Roger asked, looking between Rayleigh and Bron. Neither disagreed with him, and he continued, "Why tell you to cave in when they could just—" he paused when re recalled why the mayors hadn't called for help. He sighed, and took his hat off and put on the table. "Never mind,"

Bron sighed too, and he pulled a chair out and took a seat.

"Are the rest of the people aware of this decision?" Rayleigh prompted, he couldn't really see the townspeople being too keen on this idea. Bron looked at him, his gaze oddly mixed with hardened frustration and sagging despair.

"Oh, yes, they know…" Bron said lowly, almost growling, "The fact that they know makes it worse though."

"They think the mayors are right?" Roger guessed.

Bron nodded, "Not all, but some have been convinced."

"This whole situation is kind of stupid." Roger stated after a brief silence.

"Their pity was evident before, but never overt like now." Bron explained, "The people don't want me to get hurt, or to be wronged anymore, and I understand that, but what's next if I cave now?"

Rayleigh checked his initial comment and thought for a moment. He had a feeling that Roger had caught on to it somewhat, too, but now it was becoming more evident. Bron spoke as if this problem had no hope of getting better. Of course it looked bad now, but there technically was a light at the end of this wasn't there? The mayor's said they had a plan after all. Their employer could just be being pessimistic, true, and he would have a reason to be, but he made it sound like the mayors had no intention of solving this problem…

"Has this town ever had problems before all this?" Rayleigh asked. Bron and Roger looked at him, and the blonde continued, "What did the mayors do then?"

Bron looked uncomfortable, he looked out the window across the kitchen table and noted the darkening sky.

"I think you two have done enough for today." He stated, and Rayleigh and Roger blinked, thrown off by the subject change. Bron continued, "I'll be able to pay you tomorrow, so you'll have money to get things for your ship."

Shut down, Roger and Rayleigh said nothing, only nodding their agreement.

As Roger and Rayleigh were preparing to leave, they helped Bron clean up a bit, and they took the trash out. There was enough for Roger and Rayleigh to carry full loads, and they lumbered their way out the back door of the Inn and busied themselves sorting the trash.

Roger was setting the wood shavings into the metal container when he felt a lurch in his gut, and a familiar presence.

Instinct took over.

The straw hat captain stopped attending the trash and he sprung to his first mate's side and yanked him down behind the cans.

Rayleigh almost yelped, but Roger clamped his hand over the blonde's mouth, and made his tall friend crouch in the deep shadow of the trash bins. Rayleigh pried Roger's hands off his face and shot him an irritated look, but then he heard something.

Voices… there sounded to be about five of them, somewhere around the corner.

Rayleigh cringed as he felt the intensity from Roger billow and ebb off him. The blonde took a careful breath, but he found it difficult. The pressure, as he'd noticed in the storm, was still suffocating. He tried to focus on something else, so he listened to the voices.

Rustling noises followed, the owners of the voices were either moving, or getting comfortable.

"I hate this job," one low toned voice said dismally, "When are we getting out of this dump?"

"Bosses said the big guy is coming in a few days, but we have to set up so it's ready when he gets here." A voice like broken glass stated.

"Good grief!" Another voice said, moaning, "I just want to get paid and get out of this place!"

"Shut up, you mouse," a deep and low voice said. The voice was so calm that it sent chills down the backs of the eavesdropping pirates. Neither needed the memories of earlier to know who had just spoken. Roger inhaled quietly, calming himself.

It was Pob.

The conversation went on. "Alright, so what do we do now?"

"Stupid idiot, we have to kill him, what else?" that voice like broken glass stated sharply. A smacking sound was heard. Rayleigh figured that some hapless nit just got punched.

"Stink," the low voice muttered like a curse, "How are we going to do that? Last I checked, he's popular around town, so what if someone interferes?"

Pob answered, voice still steely and cold.

"Kill them too."

Such serious words stated so plainly, and in such a tone was one of few things in the pirate duo's journey that they would recall for many years to come.

….~….

Bron sighed as he put the dishes he'd just dried away and closed the cupboard. A well of dread sprung up in his chest, constricting his breathing, and sent ugly chills down his back. Startled, he blinked and turned around, he wasn't superstitious, but some distant form of intuition alerted him that danger was near, but he wasn't left to ponder for long.

The front door of the Inn slipped open, and hurried feet clattered inside. Bron quirked and eyebrow, and went toward the lobby, but as he was about to turn the corner Roger and Rayleigh about ran him over. Bron about yelped and jumped back, but Roger's hand clamped over his mouth as Rayleigh restrained his shoulder so he didn't go backward.

Puzzled, and surprised, Bron froze, wondering what his employees were up to, but then Roger shushed him and then whispered.

"Quiet, we have something to tell you, and the mayors need to be told right away!" Bron's eyes narrowed, but he nodded and shrugged their hands off him.

"What's all his about?" he asked.

Rayleigh wondered if it was his panic that made him see things, but Bron seemed to have some idea of what was coming; the instant that Roger had mentioned the mayors, the Inn Keeper's expression had darkened considerably.

Roger quickly explained, "We just overheard Pob and some of his buddies planning a murder." At the odd lack of response from their employer, Rayleigh added,

"They said that if anyone interferes that those people would be killed too."

That comment seemed to budge the man's countenance a fraction, but still, Bron didn't move or immediately reply.

"Hello?" Roger snapped in a hushed voice, and Rayleigh felt his chest tighten, and he saw Bron flinch, but this time the blonde was grateful for it, maybe it would shake the man out of his trance.

Then Bron chuckled.

Of all the things that the pirate duo could have expected, laughter wasn't one of them.

"What's so funny?" Roger demanded, slightly forgetting to be quiet in his frustration. "We need to tell the mayor's or someone in authority so they can be stopped!"

"So they're finally showing their colors." Bron stated in a would-be calmly amused tone. Rayleigh bristled, but remained silent, studying their employer carefully.

He didn't seem surprised at the news.

He didn't seem confident that the mayors would do anything.

All the damage done to his Inn so far…

All the set-backs in getting it fixed.

All of it seemed expected…

"You knew they would do this." Rayleigh stated.

Bron looked at his employees. "I did. And don't bother telling the mayors, they already know."

Roger cocked an eyebrow, his anger simmering, but he was willing to listen. "What's going on here, Bron?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Bron asked, but then he answered his own question. "The mayors want to up their status; to do that they need a starting point, and, unfortunately, this is only the first link in the chain."

_**Author's note**__: Hi There! The semester has begun! Updates will likely be slower now, sorry to be the bearer of the bad news. I've enjoyed working on this story so far, and I intend to continue! This was meant to be a much longer chapter, but I decided to split it up so I didn't feel so uneven posting an obnoxiously long chapter and then a lot of shorter ones (I'm weird like that). What will happen next? Feel free to present your theories! Tell me what you all think! _


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